


Winter Of Our Youth

by sunnylil



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Bipolar Disorder, Canon-Typical Violence, Fluff and Angst, Harry Potter References, Hurt/Comfort, Ian Gallagher Loves Mickey Milkovich, M/M, Mickey Milkovich Loves Ian Gallagher, Mickey Uses His Words, Multi, gonna add some tags
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-08
Updated: 2018-07-17
Packaged: 2019-05-19 19:55:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 15,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14880191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunnylil/pseuds/sunnylil
Summary: Ian is sick of just surviving. He wants a better life for himself and Mickey, even if that means that he has to take the meds that make him feel worse at first. He moves out of the house and into a flat with Mickey that they call the rathole. They try to make the best of the situation.Neither of them thought that Sammi would blackmail Ian - but now they need a solution.This starts before Sammi called the MP on Ian, but their conversation about the army still happened.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title is the song by Bastille.  
> Kudos and comments appreciated :)  
> I`m not a native speaker.

People that can afford to buy a coffee before going to work are still suspect to Ian, even after three weeks behind the counter of the coffee shop. Working here is different than pouring drinks at a club or washing dishes at Patsy`s. The background music is mostly calming, Fiona isn`t his boss and – the best difference: He gets tips. The people who come in every morning to get their caffeine shot don`t even look him in the eye and he`s fine with that. He takes orders, pours coffees and shouts names and at the end of the day nobody cares if he`s taken his meds or not. They don`t know anything about the last year, neither the regular customers nor his colleagues.

Mickey does care though. They worked out a routine since moving in together two weeks ago. A routine where Ian takes his meds while they eat breakfast together. This way, Mickey doesn`t have to ask him about it but still doesn`t have to worry. And Ian doesn`t feel as Mickey`s monitoring him. So far it`s working fine.

They moved into a one bedroom basement-flat that Mickey calls “their rat hole”. But in the end they don`t care about the creaky floorboard or that there is no window in the bathroom. In the end it`s their own flat.

Sammi still hasn`t moved out of the Gallagher`s household and is getting on everyone`s nerves. They fought a lot more than usual and after Ian had to listen to Debbie and Fiona discuss whether it would be a good idea to keep working at Patsy`s or getting his GED or get another job, he had enough and decided to move out as soon as possible.

Mickey isn`t home yet when Ian opens the front door later that day. He`s been working overtime, a ten hour shift and his back feels like it`s going to ache forever. So he hops under the shower to soothe his muscles with hot water. He`d just put on a fresh shirt and some boxers when he hears the front door slam shut.

“Hey.”

Mickey is putting groceries into their way to tiny fridge and looks as tired as Ian feels.

“What have you been up to?” Ian leans in for a kiss before he sits down at the breakfast bar. They don`t have a kitchen table yet but the bar works just fine.

Mickey shrugs.

“This and that. Helped Kev to distribute some of his weed. That`s how I bought food.”

“Thanks. I asked Lip about a job for you by the way. He said he could arrange something. There is something available as cleaning staff.”

Mickey scoffs.

“Yeah like I`m gonna pick other people`s thrash up.”

Ian doesn`t even try to suppress his sigh.

“That`s the same answer you gave Sean after he offered you something.”

“It`s just not what I want to do, Ian. Dealing is way less demeaning and makes a lot more money.”

“And it`s fucking dangerous and criminal and unreliable. It doesn`t come with a steady pay-check.”

“You want a steady pay-check? Fine, I´ll leave. But it`s not like you didn`t know that I don`t do shit like this. “

“You fucking serious right now? That`s not what I mean!”

They stare at each other, the air between them almost audibly charged.

“It worked out just fine the last few years.”

“So it doesn`t need to change? What kind of bullshit is that? Is that what you wanna do the rest of your life?”

“It worked for my dad.”

Ian`s mouth falls open. Mickey doesn`t bring up Terry and he certainly doesn`t call him Dad. Not anymore. At first he wants to rolls his eyes and remind Mickey that his father has been in and out of prison most of Mickey`s life but there`s something in Mickey`s eyes that holds him back. He takes a deep breath and reaches across the bar to take Mickey`s hand.

“I just don`t want to see you behind that glass again. Never again. I want us to be happy. I can`t be happy if I have to worry about the police or money all the time.”

“Whatever. I`m going outside.”

Ian doesn`t follow him, not right away. He puts away the rest of the groceries before opening the front door and peaking outside. Mickey`s crouched on one of the steps, smoking. He sits down next to him.

“What the fuck is this even about?” Mickey asks, handing him the half-finished cigarette.

“Don`t you want a better life than Terry? Do you really wanna get back to jail? You`ve been to juvie already - isn`t that enough?”

“You`re acting like you – I don`t know. I feel like you wanna change me.”

“But that`s not YOU. It doesn`t define you for fuck`s sake.”

Mickey stares at his wore down shows, taking a last drag of the cigarette.

“I just don`t want to lose you because of some idiotic drug bullshit”, Ian whispers, leaning his head against Mickey`s shoulder.

“But it`s all I`ve ever known.”

 

* * *

 

Mickey`s face is relaxed when he sleeps, sometimes he even smiles a little. He`s lying on his stomach, one arm wrapped around the pillow while he`s holding Ian`s hand with the other hand. Ian leans against the wall and watches his boyfriend.

They couldn`t exactly bring an end to their fight. They agreed to disagree and the topic seems to be dealt with for now. It`s not like Ian could offer him a solution how both could be happy on a silver platter. But they agreed that maybe, over time, they could work something out. After that Mickey asked him to drop the topic, so he did, not wanting to fight anymore. By now no trace of anger or fear is seen in Mickey`s face.

Their sex is rough most of the time though it has changed over the years. In the beginning Mickey would have flipped when Ian as much as touched his face but by now they are used to touching each other. This time had been different. They had explored each other`s bodies slowly, touching and kissing each millimetre. Just … different. Good. Not essentially better but for Ian it feels like they unlocked an achievement in a video game or something. A new, different level of intimacy.

Mickey growls in his sleep and Ian can`t help but smile.


	2. Chapter 2

They warned him about it but it still catches him off-guard when it happens. Ian feels off the whole day, like there`s an ache in his heart that takes his breath away. Somehow he manages to get through an 8-hour shift but as soon as he comes home he collapses on the bed. He curls up and stares at the wall and tries to focus on his breathing. But the aching doesn`t get better. It`s feels like the weight of the world is on his shoulders.

“The fuck are you doing?”

Ian doesn`t know how many hours have passed when he hears Mickey`s voice and turns his head. Mickey`s standing in the doorframe, brows furrowed.

“Feeling like shit.”

Mickey`s expression eases immediately and he kicks of his shoes to crawl on the bed next to him.

“What`s wrong?”

“Dunno. Just one of these bad days. They said it could still happen, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Feels like someone is sitting on my lungs or something. I don`t know. I feel like I can barely breathe.”

Ian turns around to face Mickey.

“Can I help?”

“Just stay.”

“Okay.” Mickey squeezes his hand.

It doesn`t help. Not exactly. He still feels like shit but at the same time he feels a bit safer than before. As long as Mickey`s here nothing really bad will happen.

“So I guess that`s how it works now”, he says after some time of silence, “This is the medicated normal. A lot of neutral days, some shitty days and few good ones. Fuck. Why do I still feel like this? I feel so fucking betrayed, you know? I mean why do I even take these stupid pills that make me all shaky and nauseated when THEY DON`T WORK.”

“They do work”, Mickey`s voice is quiet and calm, “You`re just pissed. No one’s life is all unicorns and rainbows and shit.”

“Of course I`m pissed.”

“Nothing wrong with being pissed off. Did you eat?”

“What?”

“Maybe you`re just hangry. I`m starving. Mind some pizza pockets?”

Mickey plants a kiss on his forehead and leaves the bedroom before Ian can answer. Ian rubs his hands over his face. Mickey´s right – not about the hangry part, it`s not that easy, but his stomach already hurts. He had a muffin in his lunch break but that was more than six hours ago.

Pizza pockets already in the oven, Mickey`s sitting at the kitchen counter, fumbling with a piece of paper.

“What`s that?”

He wordlessly shoves the paper towards Ian.

_Help wanted - Door person security_

“I had an interview today.”

“And?”

A trace of a smile is shown on Mickey`s face.

“I start tomorrow night. Four nights a week, eight till three in the morning.”

Ian knows that this is good, that he should be proud or happy or whatever and he probably would be if it were any other day.

“That`s – great”, he forces a smile, because _come on._

Mickey shrugs.

“We`ll see.”

They barely talk while eating, Ian doesn`t react to Mickey`s complaints about his soon-to-be-boss, so he stops rambling about it.

“Feeling any better?”

“A bit”, Ian heads back to the bedroom leaving the dirty dishes on the counter.

With a bit of luck he`ll be feeling better by tomorrow so the best strategy is to fall asleep fast. He stares at the white wall and waits for his eyelids to get heavier but they don`t. Eventually he hears Mickey coming in, the bed squeaking and feels his arm around his waist. He feels him breathing into his neck and after a few seconds his own breathing matches his.

“Remember when you read to me? When I couldn`t get up at all? Didn`t want to talk?”

Mickey hums in agreement.

“Whatcha wanna hear? Don`t think we have a lot of books here.”

“We have the first Harry Potter. In the drawer.”

Ian would never forget that time, when Fiona read the first chapter of _Sorcerer`s stone_ to him and Lip. He was five and Fiona stole the book from her school-library.  There was a storm and he was so scared that he crawled into his sister`s bed, joined by Lip. Monica and Frank haven`t been home for days and none of them knew when or if they would come back. The wind howled outside when Fiona began to read. Normally Ian would fall asleep within the first few pages but in this case, he wanted to know what happened to the little orphan boy. The day after Monica and Frank came back and Debbie was born. Suddenly there was a crying baby, Ian was a big brother and there was no time for Fiona to read to them anymore because she had to look after her new sister when Monica and Frank were nowhere to be found. So he asked Lip to read it to him. It took them several months to get through the book and when they finished it, Ian was already in school. As soon as he could read whole sentences, he asked Lip to borrow the second book and read it each night under the covers while Frank and Monica where fighting in the living room or throwing a party.

“All right”, Mickey settles back in with the battered book in one hand, “from the start? I don`t remember where we left off last time.”

“Yeah.”

Ian, still curled up, rests his hand on his thigh and Mickey intertwines their hands before he starts reading.

“Mr. and Mrs. Dursley of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much. They were the last people you’d expect to be involved in anything strange or mysterious, because they just didn’t hold with such nonsense _._ ”

Mickey is a slow reader, he stumbles over words every now and then but Ian hadn`t asked him to read to him if he would mind. Ian relaxes more and more while listening to his voice and he`s almost asleep when Mickey finishes the second chapter.

“Maybe I just need to eat more chocolate”, Ian turns around to face his boyfriend, “It`s just like a really bad dementor attack.”

The other one raises his brows.

“Fuck you talking about?”

Ian sighs.

“Dementors? Guards of the wizard high security prison? Third part?”

“Do I look like someone who knows shit about some weird-ass wizard prison and shit?”

“They`re just really fucked up creatures. They make you feel like you`ll never be happy again.”

Mickey shrugs. “Whatever. You want me to read some more?”

“Only if you want to. I think I`m good here”, Ian answers, resting his head on Mickey`s chest.

He feels him tense up, then Mickey clears his throat and turns the page.

“The escape of the Brasilian boa con-“, he stocks, scoffs and goes on, “whatever, that snake, earned Harry his longest-ever punishment...”

Somewhere deep inside him, buried under a layer of despair and hurt, Ian can feel joy about the fact that Mickey seems to enjoy one of the few books Ian liked enough to read in his free time.


	3. Chapter 3

It`s been weeks or maybe months since the last time he was inside the Alibi. Ian doesn`t get the appeal in paying more money for booze to get drunk in company, at least as long there`s no dancing involved. He`d never choose to go there on his own. The risk of running into the man he called dad for over a decade is way too high and he`s very glad that he doesn`t have to deal with him anymore. Not to mention that his boyfriend`s wife who hates him works here.

The call came two days after Mickey started working as a security guard. Luckily his bad episode had just been a bad day and Ian felt better the morning after he fell asleep to Mickey reading Harry Potter to him.

Ian was on the way home after work when an unknown number called him. It turned out to be Sammi. She wanted to talk to him, at the Alibi, today and made it clear that it wasn`t a request but a demand.

Ian scans the room for her and spots the blonde at one of the tables near the billiard table. He orders a glass of soda from Vi and sits down across Sammi, who`s grinning at him like she`s won the jackpot.

“Ian! Dear brother!”

They`re not even related. She`s Frank`s kid, he`s not – but he doesn`t correct her.

“What do you want?”

“Catch up with you.”

“Cut the bullshit.”

“All right. As you wish”, her smile fades, “Remember our little talk? About your scar and your time in the army?”

Ian stomach twists. What does she want?

“Turns out, getting a new place is really fucking expensive. You probably know that, since you moved out, too. Fiona`s really getting on my nerves and it`s so crowded … Anyway! I thought you could help me out, you know. Some money. Let`s say 5 grand.”

What the actual fuck?

”You`re blackmailing me?”

She tilts her head.

“I hate it when you put it like that. I`m just asking for a favour. No pressure. But you should know that I`m a very upstanding citizen who doesn`t take crimes lightly. I couldn`t sleep at night if I let a searched criminal go free.”

The whole room starts spinning while Ian tries to form a coherent thought. She can`t be serious. She can`t be that fucked up.

“It`s funny, you know”, she adds, “If your little brother hadn`t set up my son we wouldn`t be in this situation. It`s a family thing through and through. You can thank him.”

Ian`s mind rattles. What options does he even have? How the fuck is he supposed to get his hands on 5000$?

“Hello?” Sammi waves her hand in front of his eyes. “Don`t you dare ignoring me, Ian. I`ll be back here Friday night. If you don`t bring the money, I`ll make a phone call.”

 

* * *

 

Mickey`s almost already out of the door when Ian comes back, so he decides to walk with him to the club.

Unsurprisingly Mickey`s furious when Ian tells him about the meeting.

“I knew that bitch was a psycho as soon as I saw her.” He spits.

“No shit. But the more pressing question is: Where the fuck will I get so much money?”

“I could just show her what happens if she does shit like that. I think a few broken rips would solve the problem.”

“Or she will rat me out anyway. I don`t know about her.”

They cross the main street and walk through an alley before they stop at the back entrance of Mickey`s new workplace.

“Your family is seriously fucked up, Gallagher.”

“She isn`t family,” Ian hisses, “and yours isn`t any better.”

“Whatever,” Mickey lights a cigarette, “I think I know how we can get some cash. Maybe even enough to shut her up.”

Ian tilts his head back. The sky is still light, it`ll be over an hour until the sun sets.

“I don`t want you to get in any trouble because of me. I can handle this on my own.”

“God, don`t shit your pants. I know what I`m doing. You don`t need to deal with that bitch without me, all right? Trust me.”

It`s not a matter of trust. It`s a matter of guilt. If something went wrong, Ian would never forgive himself for bringing Mickey into the situation.

“Just let me handle it, okay? I got a plan, Mick.”

He hasn`t. But he knows that he won`t stop Mickey by babbling about guilt. And he still got four days. That`s a lot of time to figure something out.

Mickey exhales audibly and frowns.

“What plan? Gonna turn yourself in? There`s no way I`m gonna let that happen.”

“Gallaghers got their own way to make money.”

“Oh come on Ian. You really think I can`t tell that you`re lying? You think I`m that fucking stupid?” Mickey raises his voice. “Just let me help with that one. There`s so much I can`t help you with but now I can, so-“

“Just don`t! I would never forgive myself if something happened to you. And it`s not your fault that I`m in this situation, so you don`t have to help me out of it.” Ian yells back.

“Really? Don`t you think it is? Why did you join the army anyway, huh? Remind me again.”

“Because I`m fucking nuts, Mickey. That`s why! It`s not your fault that I had a psychotic break. You give yourself too much credit here.”

Mickey scoffs and throws the stump to the ground.

“You`re not alone in this, Ian. Even if you want to be. I gotta go.”

Regret shoots trough Ian`s veins. He didn`t plan to fight with Mickey, didn`t plan to push him away this harsh. But Mickey doesn`t give him a chance to respond, he just turns around and pushes the door to the back entrance open.

On the way home he remembers that it was Frank that brought Sammi into their lives and he can`t help but throw his head back and laugh. Fucking Frank.

 

* * *

 

Mickey hasn`t come home yet when Ian wakes up the next morning. Ian texts him _Where r u?_ but doesn`t bother worrying about it. It`s his day off and he couldn`t come up with a plan last night, so he decides to go to the Gallagher`s house hoping that his siblings have a plan.

Lip doesn`t return to college for another week and Ian finds him sitting at the kitchen table, having a late breakfast with Debbie and Fiona.

“Oh look. Stranger`s here,” Fiona remarks when she sees Ian but she gets up to hug him anyway.

“Long time no see, man. What`s the flat like?” Lip grins at him and pours coffee into a clean mug.

“It`s all right. Sammi around?”

“No,” Debbie shakes her head, “Apartment hunting.”

“About time she fucking leaves,” Fiona mutters.

“I have to tell you something,” Ian starts and tells them everything.

After some minutes of collective swearing, they try to figure out a plan.

“I could try to apply for a loan.” Fiona suggests but Lip shakes his head.

“By now the AWOL charges turned into desertion and that`s a far more serious offense. And we don`t know if she`s gonna make the call anyway.”

His brother looks at him with a grim expression.

“I really fucking hate to say this but your best chance is to turn yourself in. You have a medical record so they`ll have proof that you weren`t in your right mind when it happened. And if you go there by yourself they`ll probably just discharge you on Other Than Honourable Conditions. Maybe a fine but I don`t think they`ll do that.”

Ian winces. He knows he fucked up, but somehow an OTHC discharge would still somehow … hurt. It doesn`t make any sense, because he could face jail time, for fucks sake.

“How do you even know all this?”

Lip shrugs. “Quick google search when the MP paid me a visit.”

Ian buries his face in his hands. Shit. Shit. Shit. It`s gonna loom over him all his life if he doesn`t do something. Sammi could come after him at any time. She doesn`t deserve 5k and he surely doesn`t want to give her that much power about his life. He`s done with having no control.

“Okay,” he exhales, “How is it gonna work?”

 An hour later they worked out a step-by-step plan. After he collected all his paperwork, Lip is going to drive him to the military base tomorrow morning and hopefully it`ll all be over after the weekend. Fiona and Lip leave for work around noon and it`s the first time Ian glances at his phone since he got here. Still no word from Mick.

“How you feeling, other than the Sammi shit?” Debbie asks him.

“I`m fine, Debbs. No need to worry.” Ian forces a smile and hopes she doesn´t press the matter. But then his phone rings and he walks into the living room. It´s a unknown caller and for a moment Ian considers ignoring it but then he accepts the call.

“You have a collect call from the cook county jail from Mickey Milkovich. To accept press pound.”


	4. Chapter 4

 Fucking hell. Fucking goddamn son of a bitch.

Ian accepts. Of course he accepts. The call is connected and after a few seconds he hears Mickey`s voice.

“Ian?”

“Yeah. What the fuck, Mickey?”

“Some weird dressed dude wanted some weed when I tried to sell some more to – you know – turned out to be a plainclothes officer. So … Yeah. You already know where I ended up.”

“I told you to leave it alone!”

“Don`t you think it`s too late either way? I don`t have long and wanted to make sure you`re ok.”

“I`m not okay, Mickey! You`re in fucking cook county! How can I be ok?”

“You really think I`d let that bitch destroy your life without doing anything?”

“Well guess what, genius. I`m going to turn myself in. If you – Damn it, Mickey. Why do you never listen to me?”

“I just wanted to help! Fuck me for giving a shit, Ian. And you know that’s a really stupid idea, right?”

“It`s the best chance I got.”

“I gotta go. The preliminary hearing is on Friday but I guess you won`t make it. You`re on my visitation list. Visit me as soon as you can. I mean, they`re not gonna, like, let you rot in jail, right?”

“I hope not.”

“All right.”

Silence. Ian can almost see Mickey biting his lip.

“Just … take care, yeah?”

Ian wants to say so much to him. Yell at him for being so stupid. Thank him for trying. Promise him it´s going to be okay. Tell him that he loves him. Instead he says:

“You too. I`ll come as soon as I can. Bye.”

The call disconnects.

* * *

 

 

 Ian tries not to worry too much. About Mick. About what`s going to happen at the military base. About his – or their - future.  He fails. He manages to find all the paperwork Lip suggests he should bring with him and quits his job. They wouldn`t let him take off for an unknown amount of time, so he makes it easier that way. He instructs Lip to take care of the flat in case he won`t come back and after he packed a bag with a change of clothes and his meds everything is taken care off. The night is short. Not only is he not used to sleeping alone anymore, his mind is also rattling non-stop. He manages to get about an hour of sleep before he decides to get up and go for a run while the sun is rising.

It might be the last chance to go for a run in a long time, so he takes the long route and tries to run out all of his worries and anxiety. What if there had been a better way to deal with Sammi? Maybe they could have killed and dumped her somewhere since there is no one to notice when she`s gone. Frank surely wouldn`t complain. Maybe a few hard punches had done the trick, too. But even if it had helped – who says that the MPs wouldn`t go looking for him someday again? He thinks it through a million different ways but there`s no change to the fact that the MP is looking for him. He just really fucking hopes that Lip`s research proves to be right and he gets a free card due to being nuts.

He takes the L to Patsy`s after a quick coffee and a bagel and watches Fiona hustling through the shop window. He doesn`t enter the diner until Lip joins him, parking Kev`s car in a parking space out front. Fiona hugs Ian as soon as she sees him.

“Lip told me about Mickey. You can`t get the Milkovich out of that kid, no matter what.”

Ian wants to defend his boyfriend, he only tried to help in the end and besides that Fiona`s not in the position to say anything about going to jail. But he`s too busy fighting to keep his meal down so he just shoots her a look.

“All right, sorry.” She lifts her hand. “Don`t wanna argue with you, not now. You ready?”

“As ready as I can be.” Seriously, he might throw up.

“We shouldn`t lose any more time,” Lip suggests. It`s almost ten o`clock and they gotta drive about four hours until they reach the Army base in Rock Island.

“Yeah. Okay. It`s going to be fine. You`ll be back in no time and then it`s over. We`re gonna take care of Sammi in the meantime. Call. Okay? Okay.”

Fiona forces a smile and he tries, too, but he just can`t bring himself to do it. If Mickey were here now … He would be so pissed about all the touchy-feely-shit and distract him and probably drive him instead of Lip. But he isn`t, so Ian gets in the car with his brother who immediately turns up the music and starts the car.

* * *

 

The road seems to stretch endlessly. They make a pit stop and Ian buys a granola bar that he can`t eat because it seems to taste like dust. Lip doesn`t talk much, sometimes sings to the songs in the radio. Ian can tell he`s nervous too, the way he slams on the wheel with his fingers. After more than three hours they leave the highway and Ian knows that it`s only a matter of minutes now.

“It`s gonna be ok. You have your medical records with you so it`s probably not even going to take that long for them to get that you`re not responsible. And if there`s any problem you can call and we`ll get you an attorney, somehow.”

Lip pulls up on the army premises and drives towards the check point. An armed soldier stops them. Maybe he should run. Or Lip could make a U-turn and they could leave the country. Live off-grid for a while or something like that. Suddenly it all seems like a very bad idea to Ian. But it`s too late. He`s got to trust. He doesn`t know in what but what other choice does he have? And he kind of owes it to Mickey. Fuck this bastard. Why did he do that? Why does Ian have to go through this without him?

The soldier approaches the car and Lip lowers the window.

“Hey. Uh, my name is Phillip Gallagher and, uh that`s my brother, Ian. Ian Gallagher. I think you`re looking for him.”

It`s definitely a bad idea.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your support.  
> Final weeks are kicking my ass. I`m aming to upload at least once a week but can`t make any promises.

It only takes about half an hour to get to cook county, but it still takes Ian more than a week since he got back from the military base to schedule a visit.  He`s glad to get out of the house. It felt like he`s suffocating under the murmured conversations between Fiona and Lip. They tried to get him to talk about what happened at the base but he doesn`t say anything about it. He`s back, he`s been discharged on other than honourable conditions. They dropped the charges on the enlisting under a false identity and the vandalism and for Ian the chapter`s closed. He doesn`t want to think about any of this and it would be great if his siblings would accept that.

He has to wait almost an hour until he gets to walk through the security check. There aren`t many people waiting with him. A girl that`s barely sixteen is sitting next to him and reminds him of himself when he visited Mickey in juvie after Kash shot him. She keeps biting her nails and looks scared. Ian shots her a hopefully reassuring smile right before one of the guards calls his name.

Mickey`s eyes light up when Ian sits down across the glass barrier and picks up the phone.

“So they didn`t let you rot in hell for years.”

“Apparently not.”

It`s good to see him but Ian can`t deny that he`s still pissed about the way things went down.

“How long did you get?”

Mick`s smile dies.

“Seven months. 27 weeks left.”

Seven fucking months.

“Maybe they`ll let me out sooner. Overcrowding or some shit. Dunno,” he hastily adds as if that would change anything. “What was it like? Military prison?”

Ian shakes his head.

“Doesn`t matter. It`s over. Sammi left Illinois. Apparently she found herself a guy or something. Whatever. Lip wasn`t specific on how they took care of it and honestly I don`t care.”

“You still mad?” Mickey tilts his head.

Ian scoffs.

“Am I mad that I have to spend the next seven months without you? Course I am. But I also get why you did it. So … We`re good, I guess.”

Mickey grins again and Ian`s heart flutters despite everything.

“So you`re gonna wait?”

As if he could live without him.

* * *

 

No one`s live is all unicorns and rainbows and shit but Ian feels like he hasn`t seen anything even resembling a rainbow in weeks. Since he can`t afford the flat without Mickey`s contribution he has to move back into the house. Fiona refuses to pay for his food as long he`s not going back to school so he gets his job as a dishwasher at Patsy`s back. It`s like his life is reset to the time he left the psych ward but this time it`s even worse.  Mickey calls him every other day and Ian tries to visit at least once a month but there`s not much you can do with glass between you and their time is always limited. There is never enough time.

Weeks fly by, summer turns into autumn and he feels more stuck than he ever felt before.

The bad days seem to happen more frequently. His doctor asks him about it but Ian doesn`t want to change the dosage or even the meds, too scared that it will make him feel like a living corpse for days. So he endures it. One thing he learned growing up is enduring stuff, shutting himself off. When he talks to Mickey they count the days until he`s released.

 

“It`s hard to get a hold on you these days.”

Lip came home for the weekend. They sit at the kitchen table, both a beer in front of them. Ian rarely drinks, the meds make him drunk in no time, but right now he wants to get hammered.

“Being a RA is time consuming. Not to mention that I need to study. It`s still weird. I never had to study before going to college. What`s been up with you?”

The alcohol starts to show his impact. The last time he`s been this hammered was with Mickey, the night he asked him to move in with him. Ian scoffs. They moved in together less than five months ago, a few weeks after he`d started to take his meds for real. At least he isn`t sharing a room with Liam anymore and sleeps in Fiona`s, since she`s staying at Sean`s most of the time.

“Not much. Sucks that I can`t afford a flat on my own. If Mandy were still here I would just move back into the Milkovich house but I`m not that interested in having Iggy as the only housemate.”

“Ever thought about, like, getting a better job? Even if you were a waiter you`d at least get tips.”

“Like what? Working at a coffee shop isn`t that much better than Patsy`s. And there`s not much I can do without a diploma.”

Lip raises his eyebrows, prompting Ian to shake his head.

“I`m not going back to school. That`s like suicide in instalments.”

His brother`s expression changes and Ian immediately regrets his word choice.

“How are you feeling, anyway?”

How _is_ he feeling? He shrugs.

“I miss Mickey. But it could be worse. It`s like,” he pauses, trying to find the right words. He`s far from satisfied with his life but then, when has a Gallagher ever been happy? It`s not a standard they`re aiming for. He would like to. But survival is more important. And maybe this feeling hasn`t anything to do with depression but with the circumstances in general. Maybe no one would be happy after what he`s been through.

“It`s pretty neutral. My sleep pattern is all right, that`s something. Yeah. It`s okay.”

“When`s Mickey getting out?”

“Four more months.”

Lip wants to say something but his phone rings, so he leaves the kitchen to answer. Ian empties the bottle and looks at his own phone.

He scrolls through his messages, even though there a no new ones. The most recent ones are from Lip or Fiona, the last one he sent to Mick was on the day he got arrested. Maybe he should reconnect with old friends, maybe he should call Mandy, ask what she`s up to. He hasn`t heard from her in months, since she left. He was too busy being manic and after that he honestly didn`t think about her. Or so he tells himself. He doesn`t want to hear her voice when he tells her that he`s bipolar. She probably already figured. He doesn`t want to admit to her that he`s stuck here while she went away. Maybe Mickey has heard from her but then, he never talked to Mickey about his sister, why start now? He opens up his contacts, scrolls to the letter M. It feels like he missed a step on the staircase when he sees the third entry. It`s not like he forgot that he has her number. He could never forget her, he has a daily reminder.

Maybe she would get how he feels. What it feels like to be dependent on medication. Maybe he should call her. Just chat a bit. Nothing major. Ian`s finger hovers over the name.

“What are you staring at?” Lip comes back into the kitchen.

Ian shoves his phone back into his jeans pocket.

“Nothing. Was that your mistress?”

 


	6. Chapter 6

“I`m getting desperate here, Gallagher.”

It`s Monday morning, Ian was still in bed when his phone rang and the well-known prison tape started.

“You`re not gonna believe me. I`m not even believing it myself. But I`m still kicking my ass for being so stupid and I guess that`s my own form of punishment.”

Hell - since when did Mickey babble?

“Spit it out.”

 “I`m taking GED prep classes.”

“You`re taking _what_?”

Ian doesn`t know what he expected. But it definitely wasn`t that.

“Yeah. They said it reduces my sentence. That guy Fernando keeps throwing up and it stinks and, god, it`s so boring in here so I thought why not?”

 _Why not_?

“You fucking serious? You`re fucking with me right?”

“Nah. Would never do that. It`s all right. I forgot that I actually liked maths before dropping out. The rest sucks though.”

“Wow.” That`s all Ian can manage.

Mickey Milkovich is preparing for a GED exam.

“If I pass, I could be out before Christmas.”

“That`s amazing. I mean I don`t care about Christmas. But that would be in less than six weeks. Instead of, like, next year. Wow.”

“Yeah right?”

He can hear Mickey`s smile through the phone. God how he wishes he could kiss him now. Kiss him and tease him and fuck him. It`s been way to long.

“I miss you.”

“Miss you too. That`s why I`m doing this shit.” Mickey laughs. “Gotta go. See you soon?”

“Got a couple of weekend shifts. Call me?”

“I`ve got class tomorrow morning, I`ll try around 5 pm, okay?”

Ian shakes his head, laughing. “That sounds so weird, man. When was the last time you suffered through a whole day of school?”

“Uh, first week of middle school maybe? But there were a lot of other things I could do instead. Here – not so much. Except like bash someone`s head in. But that would land me in solitary and then I wouldn`t be able to call you, so…” He trails off. “It`s never a whole day of classes, anyway.”

Mickey`s voice is muffled, Ian hears something like _Fuck you I`m done when I`m done, shithead._

“Gotta go for real now.”

* * *

 

 

Who would have thought that the shit-talking south side thrash would think about getting a GED? But then, who would have thought that Mickey would admit that he misses Ian? In his work break at the same day Ian is standing outside of Patsy`s, smoking and trying to wrap his head around it. It`s a slow day with only a few customers.

He keeps replaying the conversation in his head.

It wouldn`t make a difference if Mick knew that he felt stuck, right?

In the end, he can`t help him, anyway. And last week was ok. But yesterday and today were just fucked up. He feels like he`s moving through vicious mush, his movements slow and exhausting, not to mention his thoughts. It`s not _bad_ bad, not the negative pole bad, not _crushing_ bad. But it`s not good either and without Mickey to cheer him up or just hold him it`s even worse.

And now Mickey`s doing _something_ with his life while being in _jail_ and he`s a high school drop-out who`s been discharged on other than honourable conditions and works at a fucking diner. Collecting other people`s shit. Not to mention that he`s fucking bipolar.

Somehow he gets through another three hours at work. There`s no one at the house and he forgot to get some food so he grabs the cereal box labelled _Debbie Don`t you fucking dare_ and pours it into a bowl along with some milk. He then takes his food upstairs and opens the old, battered laptop to surf aimlessly through the Internet, reading through blogs run by people with bipolar disorder, hoping to … he doesn`t even know what he`s hoping to find. 

“Hey,” Fiona knocks on the bedroom door, then pushing it open, “I`m trying to get rid of some stuff. There are some old photos Monica took on those rare occasions when she was around. Would you mind looking through it? Throw anything away you don`t wanna keep. But it`s mostly pictures of you, so…” She hands him an envelope.

“Yeah, sure.”

His heart skips a beat when he flickers through the photos. These aren`t random pictures, these are pictures of the one JROTC awards ceremony Monica was around. The ceremony when he got a ribbon for excellent physical fitness. When he wanted to get into West Point. When his dreams weren`t crushed yet.

Excellent physical fitness. He couldn`t be further away from that.

The last pic in the envelope shows him in his uniform – and Monica who has one arm wrapped around him. This must have been weeks, maybe days before Thanksgiving.

Did she feel as lonely as him when she was first diagnosed? Or didn`t she care at all?

Once again Ian`s finger hovers over Monica`s number in his phone contacts.

He barely remembers the last time he saw her. It was a haze of drugs and alcohol – and mania. After the whole helicopter debacle he stayed at Lloyd`s for a few days, the next thing he remembers is waking up in a car. Monica was all chatty and in love with black-bearded guy with a lot of piercings, who lived in a ramshackle hut. They didn`t talk much, at least Ian doesn`t remember it and it didn`t take long until Monica got in a huge fight with the guy and split without telling Ian where she was planning to go.

He presses the call button.

_This number is currently unavailable._

It`s probably better this way.

Ian tosses his phone on the bed and stares down at the photo again. He started working out when he joined ROTC. Exercise has been part of his life for years. He`d go run when everything became too much to handle. He`d do two hundred push ups when he failed a test at school. That`s what he was good at. It isn`t like him to just mope about the unfairness of the universe. If he ever wants to be happy again he needs to reclaim his life.


	7. Chapter 7

“So, Ian. What have you been up to in the last two weeks?”

Dr. Khan clicks with her pen and smiles at him.

Ian doesn`t feel like smiling back. Instead he feels like running out of his psychiatrist`s office. He doesn`t feel so sure about his whole reclaiming life idea anymore, because it involves admitting failure. He needs to tell her that the meds aren`t working the way they should, that he still doesn`t feel normal again.

What if she just shots him a compassionate smile and tells him that this is as good as it gets?

“Not much, I guess. Still working at the diner, still sleeping in my sister`s bedroom…” Or Lip`s, he switches when Fiona`s home and then switches back when Lip`s home for the weekend.

“Your sleep pattern okay? Do you exercise regularly?”

“Yes. Uh, not really, no.”

A pang of embarrassment shoots through him. He probably won`t get a better chance. The waiting room is full of patients and if he doesn`t manage to open his goddamn mouth Dr. Khan will dismiss him.

“I … I wasn`t able to work up the motivation to, like, go running.” Or even do a set of sit ups. “It`s not like I feel depressed for real. It`s not like this not wanting to get out of bed stuff. Or feeling like I`m drowning. On some days, that does happen, too but – What I mean is … I don`t know. I just don`t feel good. Or happy. I mean I should feel at least normal, right? Or maybe I shouldn`t. I don`t know.”

He stares at his hands, his leg jerking.

“For how long have you been feeling this way?”

“About four months?”

“Medication is not a one size fits all and it`s not uncommon that meds that worked before stop working or change the way they work when you go through stress. And your significant other being incarcerated and moving back in with your siblings is definitely stressful. I`m gonna put you on another antidepressant and lower your lithium intake a tiny bit, which is better for your body in the long run anyway. It`s gonna take time until the antidepressant kicks in and we don`t know if the first dose is the right one or if it`s the right prescription and so you`re gonna have to be patient, all right?”

Ian nods, relief flooding through him. There is a solution; at least it seems like it. It`s not his fault and he`s not unfixable screwed.

“You remember the list with the people you should contact if you want to harm yourself? One of the side-effects could be suicidal thoughts, so keep that close. If you want to you can be go to an inpatient facility to work the meds out under closer supervision.”

“No, that`s – It`s not that bad.”

“All right. Remember you can call me anytime.”

* * *

 

 

When he comes home he hears babies crying before even opening the front door.

“Since when do we open up the daycare in November?”

Debbie`s in the kitchen and as he comes closer he sees that Gemma and Yevgeny are sitting in the playpen.

“Kev asked me to watch them. He has to go to the doctor with Amy. Svetlana and V are busy at the Alibi, so…”

“Hey, buddy! How you doin`? Haven`t seen you in a long, long time.”

Ian picks up Yevgeny, who happily babbles incoherent stuff, biting on a stuffed dog with a missing ear from time to time.

“You`ve got big, haven`t you? Almost a year old, huh? Can you walk already? Show me how you do it.”

He sits him down on the kitchen floor, grabs his hands and raises him to stand up. So far so good.

“One step, buddy! You can do it.”

Instead of going forward Yevgeny looks up at him and smiles. Ian swallows. He looks a lot like his dad when he smiles. Does Mickey know this?

“All right. Don`t want to take no orders, eh? Totally feel you. Let`s go back to playing with Gemma.”

Ian grabs the cup of coffee Debbie poured him.

“What`s their arrangement anyway? Jemma`s basically Yev`s step-sister now, right?”

“Not legally. Svetlana`s still married to Mickey. But they`ve been living together for over a month now. Kev calls it a throuple.”

“A what?”

“Like a threesome but as a domestic couple? I don`t know. Maybe Svet`s cool about a divorce now. As long as they are still hitched you`ll never be able to get married.”

Ian almost spits his coffee over the table.

“Who said anything about marriage, Debs?”

She shrugs.

“No one. But that`s how it goes, right? Moving in together, marriage, kids. You two are going to move back together when Mickey`s out, right? And he already has Yevgeny, so the only thing that`s left is marriage.”

“Okay, I don`t even know where to start, Debbs. I guess we will, yes. I just don`t think any of this is on the top of our priority list.”

“What is, then? Your top priority?”

“Getting out of prison, obviously.”

“Yeah but that`s not something you can, like, work towards.”

“Actually you can. Mickey`s taking GED classes to shorten his sentence.”

Debbie stares at him in disbelief.

“You`re kidding, right?”

He shakes his head and empties the cup, right before Jemma starts wailing and draws Debbie`s attention towards her. He watches her for a while before heading upstairs.

 

* * *

 

The meds start working at the same time it starts to snow in Chicago and while everything around him gets darker for Ian it feels like a curtain has been lifted.

Mickey`s hair is growing longer and longer and Ian expects it to be chopped off each time he visits him. The visits haven`t gotten more frequently, mostly because his shifts and the visitation hours are often at the same time.

“What`s new with you?”

“Lip got kicked out of college. Vandalism and his lady professor and I don`t even know what else.”

“Do I look like I care about your fucking brother, Gallagher? I asked what`s new with _you_ not your fucking family.”

“Fuck you. You`re in a good mood today, huh?”

Mickey sighs.

“Took the exam. They said I`m gonna get the new date as soon as they done with it. Shit takes time.”

“You just gonna get out if you pass?”

“Dunno. I just wanna get out of here. It`s been almost half a year. What good is it gonna do if they only let me out like two week early when I earned more because they take too long to process this shit?”

“Chill, man. What does it matter as long as you`re getting out, anyway? And can you be like, not be pissed for a sec because I want to tell you something.”

Mickey shrugs.

“So, Lip got kicked out of college and now he`s an intern at a tech firm and he said that they need some people for their support centre. Like, I don`t know, mostly referring e-mails or calls. Anyway. The point is it would pay almost two dollars more per hour than washing dishes. And he says he can get me in within the next week.”

“So a call centre, basically?”

Mickey grins.

“Basically.”

“You gonna pick me up, right? When I get out, I mean.”

“Yeah,” Ian`s heart jumps at the thought that this might be the last time he has to look at Mickey behind this glass, “course I`m gonna be there.”

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the support!  
> This one is from Mickey`s POV. Enjoy!

When Mickey finally gets his results and is allowed to leave it`s only one week until Christmas.

It`s freezing outside and he only has the clothes he has been wearing when he got arrested – a black sleeveless shirt and a ripped pair of jeans. Ian is waiting for him by a car Mick doesn`t recognize and hands him a hoodie before pulling him into one of the tightest hugs Mickey`s ever experienced. Not that he has experienced a lot of them.

“I missed you so much,” he hears Ian whisper into his ear.

He wants to answer, but he can`t. It feels like his heart has been ripped out of his chest and Ian just put it back in, so it has to learn how to beat again. He`s out.  He`s finally out of this shithole and he`s got a fucking GED along the way. He doesn`t have the actual certificate with him, just a piece of paper with the information how he can get his hands on it - it`s stuffed in the plastic bag with his other personal belongings – his phone and his wallet, that`s it. His wallet doesn`t contain more than a crumbled twenty dollar bill, his ID and an old-school picture of Yevgeny.

“Fuck all of you! I`m never gonna come back here so fuck you forever,” he yells at the top of his lungs before he gets into the car.

“This yours?”

“Do I look like someone who could afford a car? It`s Sean`s. I think they want to get married. Carl`s out of juvie by the way. He turned our house into his ghetto mansion - just to prepare you.”

“Yeah. No flat anymore. Forgot about that for a second.”

“So where do you want to go? You hungry?”

Mickey grins.

“Course I`m hungry. But not exactly for food.”

 

They decide to spent the first night at the Gallagher`s house, because Mickey isn`t exactly sure who`s staying at his old house at the moment. It could be just Iggy. Or one of his other brothers could be staying there right now. He isn`t sure when Joey`s meant to be released from jail and he really doesn`t want to deal with any of them now. None of the Gallagher`s are exactly thrilled to see him. Carl asks him about the gang politics at cook county but Mickey doesn`t really want to get into it so the conversation quickly dies down. It`s not really surprising that juvie turned Carl even more into a gangster than he was before but Mickey doesn`t want to talk about jail. He`s fucking out, for god`s sake.

He`s out and now he`s lying next to the person he missed the most. He missed his warmth, his scent, his movement, how he tastes – everything. He missed running his fingers through the mess of red hair, he missed listening to his breathing, feeling his breath on his skin. He missed the way Ian moaned his name, the way he bit his lip, the way he felt. He missed every fucking thing about this person.

“You said earlier that you`ll never go back. Are you serious about this?”

Mickey is almost asleep already when Ian brings this up.

“Yeah.”

“Got a plan?”

Mickey shifts to look at his boyfriend`s face.

“Thought about becoming a chef. I always liked to cook, never nothing fancy but it`s … fun. Gotta get a job – parole and shit.”

Suddenly self-conscious, he hides his face in the pillow and mutters, “That`s a stupid idea right? Milkoviches don`t do honest work.”

“Saying that`s stupid is stupid. Who says Milkoviches don`t do honest work, huh? People say a lot of stuff without knowing shit, so what? Mandy`s out there doing her thing, why shouldn`t you?”

He feels Ian`s hand in his hair.

“Mandy`s an fucking escort. You want me to be an escort?”

Ian laughs.

“I`m the last one to judge here. But I`m serious. Why don`t you give it a go?”

Mickey turns his face towards Ian again and smiles.

“I used to help Jamie in the kitchen when I was little, every time Terry was in the joint. He taught me how to make pizza rolls and roast-beef and that kind of shit. That cottage-cheese shit you love? It`s syrniki, a Ukrainian dish, he taught me how to make it.”

“Why have you never talked about this before?” Ian`s voice is soft, he`s still running his fingers through Mickey`s hair.

 “Like I said, we only did that when Terry wasn`t home, or could be home any minute. He didn`t like it. Food wasn`t anything fancy or anything – it had to keep your stomach from hurting and that`s it. No man should ever spend more time in a kitchen than absolutely necessary. Women sure – they got nothing better to do anyway. And I didn`t want him to be mad at me, I`d never do anything to catch a beating on purpose, so I stopped. And then … Dunno.”

Ian sighs and kisses his forehead.

“You know that I love your cooking, right? I would love it when you do it more often and I`m sure you have what it takes to work your way up.”

“I guess I can at least try it.”

“I got a plan, too,” Ian smiles at him, “Didn`t want to tell you this over the phone. The job Lip got me is fine and everything but – I don`t know. That`s not what I wanna do with my life. And since I obviously can`t get back to the army or marines or anything anymore, because I`m batshit crazy… I was always proud of my body. I always took care of it, put work into it. That was my thing.”

“Wait,” Mickey interjects, “You`re not telling me that _you_ wanna work as an escort, right?”

“No,” Ian laughs, “No, I`m not. I wanna get a fitness instructor certificate and, dunno, work at a gym or something. I just have to get my GED first … and somehow come up with the money but I`ll worry about that then.”

“Sounds cool. Look at us. All grown up and shit making plans for our lives.”

“Yeah. All grown up.”

“Now let me get some fucking sleep or I`ll slit your throat.”


	9. Chapter 9

Ian told Mickey about his med change. What he didn`t tell him about is that his psychiatrist had to increase the dose of the antidepressant just before he started working at the support center of the tech firm. It`s not a big deal, because after that he finally feels like himself again. He enjoys having Mickey back, even if they basically live in the tiny bedroom while his siblings are as loud and messy as always. It`s not a big deal that with the higher dose the side-effects get worse, too. At first he tells himself that he just has an upset stomach, because of all the excitement with Mickey and Christmas and shit. That`s why he can barely eat anything. Somehow he manages to get through the Christmas dinner without anyone noticing that he barely touched anything. It`ll wear off, most side-effects get better after a few days. He tries to ignore it.

“When you think of telling me you`re out of joint? When you think of taking care of your son? Father duties? How long you been staying here?”

Svetlana barks in a few days after the holidays, Yevgeny on her hip. Mickey and Ian are playing video games, Carl opened the door and is now nowhere to be seen.

“Calm the fuck down. I`ve only been here for like a week. Give me a fucking break.”

“Break? You had break for half year. Now it is my turn for break.”

She hands Yevgeny to Mickey, who rolls his eyes at her.

“The fuck does that even mean?”

“You took care of him before you went to jail you will now. He staying with you every week, Sunday until Wednesday. Yes? Good.”

“How the fuck is that supposed to work when I get a job? And I only saw him like every other week before I was locked up.”

“That was then. Now is now. And until you have job, it is how it is. Then we are going to make new plan. Child needs father. Otherwise he end up like them.” She nods her head towards Ian.

“You see, we do have a father. He`s shitty, but he`s here. It`s the mum that`s the missing part.”

Ian has watched the two without saying a word until now and Svetlana looks at him as stone-faced as always before looking back at Mickey.

“I don`t give shit. You going to spend time with your son. I`m picking him up Wednesday afternoon. And don`t leave him alone with Redhead.”

She kisses Yevgeny good-bye and leaves without another word.

Mickey shakes his head, looking after her.

“It`s not even like I don`t wanna spend time with you, buddy. You know that. But I`d like to have a say in how much and when and stuff.”

Yevgeny babbles something incoherent in response and Mickey sits him down on the floor so he can crawl around.

“It`s gonna be fun. We can build a snow man outside.” Ian grins excitedly.

“He`s a one year old. He doesn`t give a shit about snow.” Mickey pauses, watching his son who`s trying to pull himself up at the couch table. “I missed him, though.”

 

* * *

 

It`s one of those rare evening`s when no one`s at home. Fiona`s staying at Sean`s, Lip`s still at work, Debbie is at the arcade with Liam and Carl`s staying at Dominique`s.  So Mickey decides to introduce Yevgeny to one of his favorite meals: chicken divan.

“They`re gonna kill you when they find out there`s proper food being served when they`re not home, you`re aware of that, right?” Ian jokes while is stomach is turning into knots.

The list of the things he`s eaten today is not that long. A piece of buttered toast, some cheese and half a box of cookies for lunch, because apparently that`s the stuff his brain allows him to eat.

Everything else just tastes like paper and it feels like his throat is corded up.

“There are gonna be leftovers so they don`t have anything to whine about.” Mickey starts eating after he cut the chicken for Yevgeny, who seems to enjoy it.

Ian wants to make light conversation, because just with the two of them Mickey`s gonna know for sure something`s up but he can`t bring himself to focus on anything. He`s fucking starving but what`s the point in eating when it`s gonna taste like crap anyway. He picks at the food, shoves one, two forks down his throat before feeling nauseated.

“What`s wrong? Don`t you like it? I shouldn`t have used-“

“No,” Ian stops him, “It`s not the food. It`s perfect, Mick. It`s just-“

How the fuck is he supposed to explain this to him?

“I had to double up on the antidepressants, because apparently my brain is just fucked like that. And since then I don`t have any appetite anymore. Everything just tastes like … I don`t even know, it doesn`t taste like anything. I hate that I`m not able to enjoy this, because I know that it`s really good.”

“But you need to eat like, something, right?”

“Yeah, yeah. Mostly sugary stuff.” He laughs, because otherwise he`ll cry.

“It`s supposed to go away after a few days so I`m just waiting for it to pass but it`s … yeah. Bad.”

“How long has this been going on?”

“About ten days.”

“And when it is supposed to be over?”

“Depends.” Ian shrugs.

“Okay, so we`ll deal with it.” He squeezes his hand, then jokes: “I can eat your leftovers if you`re feelin` bad about wasting food.”

 

So they deal. Mickey buys supplemental nutrition drinks after he found Ian almost in tears in front of the fridge one morning.

“I can`t bring myself to eat anything. To decide what I wanna eat. It`s like choosing between eating pure flour or – whatever. It tastes like shit either way.”

“You gotta eat something, man. Can`t take your meds on an empty stomach.”

“I know that. Do you really think I don`t fucking know that? But that doesn`t bring any appetite back. It doesn`t work that way. And it doesn`t make anything easier that I have to, like, keep food in my mouth for an eternity to chew it.” He tries to laugh but fails. “Should just blend everything.”

So Mickey goes out and buys a few packs of this super expensive powder that`s supposed to nourish you and, surprisingly, Ian can drink that. They both know it`s not really a solution to drink this shit three times a day but it`s still better than eating nothing.

They deal and none of the others seems to notice or care – mostly because Ian doesn`t want them to. They wouldn`t be able to help him anyway. Shortly after New Year Mickey and Ian move back into the Milkovich house. No one else is living there and it`s nice to have some privacy. They still want to move into a flat, as soon as Mick`s got a job.

They deal and it`s sort of okay until it`s not.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the support!  
> The story is coming to an end, two chapters left..  
> Also I rewrote this chapter a billion times so ... idk if it`s good

Fiona invites them to a family lunch at the diner. Ian is already stressed out before he and Mickey even get there.

There`s pie. Pie is sugar. His body seems to like sugar, right? So he`s gonna be okay. Problem is, he already feels nauseated.

When they arrive, everyone`s already there, there`s a huge plate of fries and burgers on the table.

“I ordered already, figured some cheeseburgers are okay for everyone,” Fiona beams at them and hugs Ian.

“Yeah, sure, thanks.” Mickey mumbles when Ian doesn`t respond at all.

“So how`s everybody doing?”

Fiona is vibrating with excitement and happiness and everybody`s chattering.

“You want some fries?” Mickey asks Ian quietly.

He nods.

“Burger?”

Panic rises in his chest.

“I – I can try.”

And then there`s a huge cheeseburger in front of him. It`s not like he doesn`t like cheeseburgers. Jesus. It`s not THAT.

He picks up a few fries, nibbles at them.

“Hey, Ian, you here?” Lip, who`s sitting next to him, hits his shoulder.

“Hm? Yeah. What?”

“You`re not hungry, sweetie?”

Fiona`s still smiling. He doesn`t want to destroy her smile.

“It`s fine. Just a stomach bug, I guess.”

He can`t take this anymore.

Mickey follows him right away when he storms out of the diner and he lets him scream.

“What the hell is wrong with me, Mickey? It`s been three weeks. Three fucking weeks of – bullshit. How the fuck am I supposed to get muscles and shit when I don`t want to eat. Why can`t my brain just take the good stuff once. ONCE. Without fucking up. Why not? Why not, Mick? Why do I have to be like this?”

Then he cries. He cries because it fucking sucks. He cries because it`s exhausting to force yourself to eat every day. He cries because it`s not an eating disorder type of shit – just the side-effects of meds he fucking depends on. He depends on meds that make him feel this way because otherwise it would be even worse.

And Mickey holds him. He`s there and he holds him and he lets him cry, his face buried at his shoulder.

“Let`s get you some new meds, all right? You don`t have to go through this. And, uh, I think we should head back inside. They`re still staring at us. And it`s fucking freezing.”

“I love you. I missed you so much.”

“I know. I love you too. Gotta stop saying that, I`m here, man.”

They don`t even try to hide it. Everyone`s staring at him and Ian knows that they want an explanation for his fit – that they deserve one.

He tries to word it nicely so they won`t worry too much, but his brain doesn`t seem to work properly anymore.

“I`m sure there are some other meds, you just have to keep trying.” Debbie shoots him an encouraging smile.

“Yeah.”

Silence.

“So, was there a purpose behind this get-together or is it just some Gallagher cuddly family-time bullshit?”

Ian can`t help but smile at Mickey. It`s a harsh try to change the subject and he`s thankful for that.

“Actually, yes,” Fiona clears her throat, “I wanted to let you know that I got divorced from Gus – and that Sean and I are getting married.”

* * *

 

 

“You know what – fuck it.”

It`s almost midnight, Ian`s sitting on the couch in the Milkovich house. He didn`t manage to eat something at the diner and he`s pretty sure he ruined the meeting for his family but that wouldn`t be the first time he has ruined something.

“Fuck what?” Mickey`s leaning against him, half asleep already. They`ve been watching some late night show for the past hour but Ian`s mind has been wandering since they left the diner.

“The meds. Fuck it, for real. What are they good for, anyway? I mean – they cost a fucking fortune and now I have to drink some supplement bullshit. Without them I wouldn`t have to pay for these drinks and-“

“No fucking way, Ian. You got a plan, remember? There`s no way that you`ll be able to get your certificate if you`re not able to get out of bed.”

“What about the good times, though?”

“Oh you mean the time you went on a fucking road trip with my kid? Or the time you hotwired a helicopter? Or the time you faked an ID to get into the fucking army despite being underage? Or when you got high every single night to shoot porn with some old fuckers? What good time do you mean, Ian? Because those weren`t good times. It was fucking dangerous, every single time.”

“I don`t mean those – I mean –“

“I know what you mean, dammit! But what gives you the certainty that a somewhat-good-high doesn`t turn into one of these hell trips? It`s your responsibility that doesn`t happen, because there ain`t no one there to babysit you anymore. I`m done babysitting you and I won`t stay with you in your bed all day because you wanna die because you don`t wanna take any meds. I`m here if you have a bad day. But you gotta do your part.  You gotta do your part.”

Mickey is standing in front of him, pointing his index finger at him.

“So you`re saying that you break up with me when I don`t take them anymore? What the fuck, Mickey?”

“Nobody said anything about breaking up, shithead. I said I won`t babysit anymore. It`s your responsibility. I`m done sitting here worrying about you when I know that there`s a way I wouldn`t have to.”

Most of last winter is a blur for Ian but he does remember how worried Mickey was. He does remember the time they went to the clinic together, to get meds for the first time, last summer. He does remember that Mickey did a lot for him in this past year – he even started working as a security guard so Ian wouldn`t have to worry that much. What did he ever do for him?

Mickey`s rubbing his face with his hands.

“Remember the last time? When you didn`t wanna take them? Before we got the flat?” His voice is quiet and Ian nods, confused. What is he getting at?

“You said you owe it to yourself – and to Yevgeny. You said if Yevgeny`s ever gonna stay with us for more than every other weekend, you owe it to him. Because you want to give him a better childhood than you had. A more stable one. That`s what you said. Did you change your mind about that?”

Ian shakes his head. His head is spinning, he can`t form one proper sentence. He knows that Mickey`s not wrong but –

“It`s just so exhausting. Dealing with all this. I just want to be happy. Don`t wanna fight you about this.”

“I know,” Mickey gets back on the couch and touches his shoulder, “But you know that no one around here is happy, right? That comes with being born here, you`re fucked for life. You`re just a bit more fucked.” He laughs.

“Thanks for the compliment, asshole. I still want to be, though.”

“Yeah. I know. You always were one for unrealistic goals.”

Ian sighs and leans into Mick.

“Let`s give it another try, all right? Go to the shrink, get another prescription. You were fine before I got locked up so there-“

“Fine`s a bit exaggerated.”

The older one sighs. “You know what I mean.”

There`s a pause.

Ian bites his lip.

“I`m sorry you have to do all this shit. Have to take care of my ass. So, yeah. I guess I`ll try and do my part. Even if it`s hard.”

“Life`s hard, man.”

“Can you promise me something, though?”

Ian looks at Mickey, who raises his brows at him.

“I`m not gonna bitch about this anymore, go to the shrink, whatever. But you gotta promise in return that you won`t forget about becoming a chef. That you´ll apply for a program or get a job as a busboy or something and won`t quit.”

Mickey doesn`t answer right away. He lights a cigarette and takes a few drags, considering Ian`s words.

“It doesn`t work this way. You gotta do this for yourself, not to get me to do something.”

“Oh so you just don`t wanna follow through with it? Gonna end up dealing again, then?”

 “Fuck you, Gallagher. You act like you are someone better. You are the same Southside thrash I am.”

Ian throws his head back, laughing. He snatches the cigarette from Mickey and takes a drag himself.

“The thing is, Mickey, I`m definitely not. You got a GED, forgot about that? You don`t have a fucking diagnosis. You have the chance to make something out of your life.”

Mickey scoffs.

“Like that piece of paper matters.”

“Why did you do it then, Mick? Why did you tell me about how much you love cooking if you`re too afraid to actually try and make something out of your life?”

“But what if I fail? What if I try and put my fucking heart out there and fail?”

Mickey`s voice cracks and Ian loses all his tension and anger at once.

“Then you try again. That`s what life is about, isn`t it. Shit, since when are you afraid of anything?”

“I`m afraid of lots of stuff Ian. Doesn`t mean I have to show it to anyone.”

“So I`m not anyone?”

Mickey rolls his eyes.

“Thought we`d established that already.”

“Just wanted to make sure. But for real. If you fail, you try again.”

To his surprise Mickey smiles at him.

“See? You said it yourself. If the meds fail, you try some other stuff.”

“Oh come on.” Ian cries, throwing a pillow at him. “You`re such a bastard.”

Moments later, Ian is lying on his back, Mickey sitting on his stomach.

“So that`s settled then. You keep taking your meds and I become the next Gordon Ramsay.”

“You sure do swear a lot.”

“Fuck off.”

Ian laughs.

“Okay, no. You`re right. I gotta do it for myself. If you can get a GED I can take those goddamn pills. And maybe the next try will be better. And I don`t want you to worry about me anymore. Done that too much.”

Mickey grins like he just won an award, then he leans down to kiss him.

“You`re just saying that to shut me up so we can fuck, right?”

“Maybe.”

 

* * *

 

“Still awake?”

It`s way past midnight, Mickey`s running his fingers through the red hair.

“Hmm?”

“You know I wouldn`t really, like, let you be on your own when you`re bad again, right? I just … tried to make a point. About owning your shit and whatever.”

Ian lifts his head and looks at Mickey, who`s face is barely light by the moonlight outside.

“Yeah. I know. Don`t worry. Can I go back to sleep now?”

 

 


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter.  
> I thougt about splitting it in two parts (you`ll get why) but they would have been pretty short, so now it`s one that`s a bit longer than usual.

Mickey accompanies Ian to the clinic without being asked to and somehow it makes admitting that the meds are more of a burden than helping him out feel less like a failure.

Dr. Khan sure doesn`t act like it`s his fault and after less than fifteen minutes they leave again with a new prescription.

“Still hate that shit,” Ian mutters while lighting a cigarette in front of the main entrance of the clinic. “Going here. Wasting my time with these appointments.”

“It took like an hour in total. That`s not long.”

“Could`ve used this time to go on a run or something.”

“When was the last time you moved your ass to go on a run in this freezing cold?”

Ian punches Mickey`s shoulder.

“Watch yourself. I`m a better runner than you have ever been.”

“Like I give a shit.” Mickey scoffs. “You gonna just whine or do something?”

“Like what?”

“Like go for a run? Get your fucking certificate?”

“Yeah. Let`s go for a run. Right now.”

And with that, Ian tosses the cigarette away and just starts running. Without thinking about where to run to, or that it is indeed freezing. He hears Mickey curse and then his footsteps running after him.

Somehow they end up roughhousing by the dugouts and suddenly it feels like the past year has never happened. Every thought about food or meds or their future is pushed far away – it`s just them.

 

* * *

 

Maybe they have a chance this time. A chance of getting out of the Southside, a chance of a better live, a chance of giving Yevgeny a better life than they had. Mickey`s at culinary school every day from eight till four and since it doesn`t pay anything, he`s doing a few shifts as barkeep at the Alibi on the weekends. It`s a eight week rehabilitation programme for ex-convicts that trains him to be a prep cook. His PO recommended him and he sat on the front porch smoking two cigarettes in a row in total shock after he got the acceptance letter.

The new meds start working and Ian throws the supplemental shit away without thinking twice about it. He passes his GED a month after Mickey started school and to his surprise, Fiona offers to lend him the money for the fitness instructor classes. It`s a six month programme and it`s gonna take a lot of commitment to go through with it but it`s actually fun to learn all this stuff. He has to cut back hours at the call centre, so Mick and he are still staying at the Milkovich house. Yevgeny stays with them every other weekend, they set up a bed for him in Mandy`s old room.

 

“You mind moving your shit away so we can fucking eat here?”

“Just a couple of questions, then I`m done,” Ian mutters without looking up from the textbook.

“Jesus, you`ve been sitting there since I got home from work. It`s almost midnight Ian you gotta take a break.”

Ian doesn`t react, chewing on the end of his pencil, brows furrowed. Mickey throws his head back and heads back to the kitchen counter to get the food. For a second he just watches Ian with two plates in his hands, then he puts one plate on the textbook.

“Hey! I said I was almost done!”  
“Yeah and I said that the food`s getting cold and you gotta take a break for once.”  
“I have an important quiz tomorrow.”  
“I know. You`ve been studying all week. You still gotta eat and get a couple of hours of sleep, y`know?”

Ian sighs and picks the fork up in resignation.

“One of the flats above the nail saloon is for rent. You know - that one next to work?”

Mickey is looking at him expectantly, Ian nods trying not to fall asleep while eating.

“I called the landlord. It`s a two bedroom, I already did the math. It could work out. We`ve been saving on rent the last few months so the deposit`s not a problem.”

Okay, he really needs to be awake for this conversation. Ian stifles a yawn and blinks a few times.

But he still doesn`t say a word, so Mickey adds:

“You know I wanna get out of here. So if you`re not in, spit it out, all right?”

“Why shouldn`t I be in?”

Mickey shrugs.

“The fuck should I know. Money and shit.”

“No, I`m in. All in.” He smiles.

 

* * *

 

It feels a bit like a déjà-vu, Ian thinks when he starts packing his stuff into boxes a few days later, but in the end, it`s not. This time, a lot is different than the last time they prepared to move.

This time he packs a full box with Yevgeny`s stuff, because the second bedroom is for him. He stays with them at least one night a week and on every Sunday Mickey doesn`t have to work at the luncheonette. This time they have to schedule their moving day around Mickey`s and his shifts. Ian asks Lip and Carl to help them, since Debbie is pregnant and Fiona has to work. They move on a Saturday in the last week of April, before it starts to get scorching hot again. The building their flat is in even has an elevator, so it takes less than three hours to get their stuff up there and set everything up.

“All set,” Ian hands Mickey a can of beer after Lip and Carl left and joins him on the floor of the living room. It`s pretty empty, considering they didn`t take the sofa or the TV from the Milkovich house - but it`s _theirs_.

Mickey spent the last two days painting Yevgeny`s room and their bedroom while Ian was either working or at school. The living room was a team-effort, one wall in a grey tone, another one in blue, the rest still white. They didn`t bother to paint their rat hole back then and it`s one other point why this time it`s different.

 “Shit, Ian, this looks like an _actual_ home. Like these things on TV. Next thing we know we`ll set up a savings account for Yev.”

“Yeah I don`t think we have to worry about money we actually can save up that much yet. I`m glad when I can start paying Fiona back with more than $50 a month.”

Mickey laughs, leaning against the wall.

“You think when I start saving up now it`s gonna be enough to take him to Disneyworld when he´s starting school? Like, for all three of us?”

Ian feels a flutter in his stomach. _Starting school._ That`s in, like, 5 years. They never talked about their future, never dared to actually dream of a life together.

“You mean with staying overnight and shit? Start taking double-shifts, then, I guess.”

“No, for real. How much does this stuff cost?”

“How should I know?“

Mickey sighs in mock frustration and pulls out his phone, whose scattered screen he`s been ignoring for months.

“Okay so… two adults … one child …”

Ian watches him tapping on the screen, biting his lip, eyes glistening with excitement and _fuck_ – he loves this man so much.

“Since when do you wanna go to Disneyworld, anyway?”

“Huh?” Mickey looks up distracted. “What do you mean, since when? Who doesn`t want to go to fucking Disneyworld?!”

Ian tries to picture it – a slightly older Mickey with Yevgeny on his shoulders, both wearing Mickey Mouse-ears, Mickey`s knuckles with his tattoos wrapped around Yevgeny`s legs – and can`t hold back a laugh. An adoring laugh, of course, but Mickey scowls at him nonetheless.

“What`s so funny carrot top?”

“I would rob a bank to make that happen, Mick. How much is it? We have to make a budget plan to make it happen.”

Mickey looks back at his phone, his smile fading.

“A lot.”

He shows Ian the price. That`s more than Ian makes in a month. For now.

Ian frowns, already missing Mickey`s excited expression.

“It`s not like we have to come up with it by the end of the year, right? He`s too young to remember it anyway.”

He gets up and rummages through the kitchen cupboard, looking for something like a mason jar.

“Here we go,” then he takes his purse and pours all his lose change into the jar. “It`s our Disneyworld jar, now. We will go when we have enough money.”

He knows that it isn`t the most realistic idea. He knows that they don`t even own a laptop that that doesn`t crash every ten minutes and that in these five years there will be more important investments. So far there`s only a bed in Yevgeny`s room and he`s gonna need a new one in about a year and maybe they should get him a desk where he can study - although Ian always did his homework at the kitchen table with Lip and quite liked it, so Yev could do that, too. But he somehow feels like this fucking jar is the embodiment of _Our life is going to get better and Yevgeny won`t have to get through the same shit we did._ And he also knows that being poor wasn`t the worst thing that ever happened in his life, it probably would have been okay if Frank or Monica would have been around and Fiona hadn`t have to raise five kids _and_ feed them. He knows that it would be enough to love this boy and to be there for him and to accept him no matter what but right now this fucking Disneyworld idea seems to be fucking important to Mick and equal utter happiness for him which means it is important, too. Ian wants to make him happy.

“You really want to start saving for Disneyworld instead of, like, a car? Or a dish washer?” Mickey gets up, too.

“You were the one who brought it up. We could call it emergency found instead. Maybe there will be no emergency and we can go anyway.”

“No emergency in five years? Yeah, sure.” Mickey rolls his eyes.

“Oh come on. Of course I know that it probably won`t work. But _Disneyworld jar_ sounds a lot better than, like, squirrel fund, right? And maybe,” he pulls Mickey into a hug, smiling at him, “it _does_ work out. Maybe we`re the lucky ones. I mean, we`re not talking about a fucking two-week cruise here. Though that would be nice, too.”

“You`re drunk,” Mickey states, unfazed by Ian`s future plans.

“No shit. I`m drunk on happiness and love.”

“Oh my fucking god. I forgot for like a second that the meds get you hammered so fast.” Mickey shakes his head, grinning.

“So, is it our Disneyworld jar or not?”

“Yeah, sure. Disneyworld jar. Let`s see if your change survives the next medication bill.”

“You`re mean,” Ian pouts.

Mickey frowns. “I`m realistic.”

Ian shakes his head. “Okay, whatever. Disneyworld jar it is. I`m just gonna ignore you.”

“Bet you can`t,” Mickey grins, kissing the corner of Ian`s mouth.

“Yes I can.” Ian stands still, eyes closed, waiting to be kissed.

Nothing happens. When he opens them again he`s directly looking into Mickey`s.

“What?”

“I love you, Gallagher. We are going to go to Disneyworld together. I promise.”

“I love you, too. It`s gonna be good. This,” he makes a flourish gesture, “our live. It`s gonna be good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed it! I surely did enjoy writing it. :)


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